FROM MIDDLESEX TO CUMBERLAND.
WHO is for a holiday between the Tyne and the Tweed?
I am for one: and my heart rejoices at sight of the hills as the train speeds into the valley of the Lune, where the broad heathery slopes, and the crystal stream rippling blithely over pebbly shallows, are lit by the red and gold of a gorgeous sunset. What a delightful ending to a summer day's journey, the first day of July, from London to the mountains; from pastures mown and cleared, and wheatfields yellow with promise of a bountiful harvest, to northern 'meadows that wait for the scythe, and fields of grain yet green in the ear! The common rapidly-shifting landscape animates the sense of freedom inspired by a holiday; and leagues of hedgerows, and acres of woods, and quiet villages, and ancient manors, and far-off church-towers appear to an eye escaped from metropolitan streets, as fresh and new as the stars in heaven.